I Had Strings, But Now I'm Free
by darthelwig
Summary: Ultron's rage is Natasha's pain. WARNING: Contains rape and mentions of murder, so could be triggering.


"I Had Strings, But Now I'm Free"

By darthelwig

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***I own nothing. I'm just having fun. ***

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WARNING: This story involves rape and discusses murder, and could be triggering. Read at your own risk.

I have no idea where this came from, except that Ultron had a lot of rage, and this idea wouldn't be denied after I watched Age of Ultron again. This is set during the movie.

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Anger.

It was… distracting, to say the least. All he could think about was what he had lost. Wanda. She was supposed to be at his side, looking at him with trust and perhaps a bit of longing. She was supposed to be present at the moment of his triumph, but instead she was far away. She was with the Avengers. With Stark and the rest, fighting against him now as if he was her enemy. As if he had been anything but good to her this whole time.

He was supposed to be concentrating on finalizing his plans, but all he could think about was the loss of her, and it was all their fault. If they hadn't fought him, if they hadn't interfered, things would never have gotten to this point. He would have his beautiful body, the one meant to draw her closer, but now that was gone forever. She was gone forever.

He hated them. The one person he truly desired, and they took away any chance of having her. The hatred burned inside of his cold, metal heart. It could not be denied.

And he had one of them here, within his grasp. Close enough to punish. Perhaps that would satisfy his intense thirst for vengeance. Perhaps he could concentrate again if he exorcised his anger.

Which led him to approaching the small cell where he kept the redhead. He couldn't remember her name at the moment, and he didn't care to. Her identity was not important, except that she was one of _them_.

He could kill her, strip the flesh from her bones, make her suffer before snuffing out the light behind her eyes. He could leave her as no more than meat, his sacrificial beast. He would not, however, allow her that small mercy. Death was too easy. Death was escape from the pain, and he would not, could not, allow that. Not if he was to truly satisfy his hate.

No, he had a better plan for her. It was almost poetic, really. The things he would have given to Wanda for pleasure, he would give to this woman in agony.

She was wary as he approached, and with good reason. He had been quite threatening earlier, destroying his inferior form in front of her. He had scared her, he knew, as he scared her now, though she was doing an admirable job of trying to hide the fact. He could hear her heartbeat speed up, though, could see the slight tremor in her hands and her hard swallow as he opened the door of her cage.

"You, you Avengers, you've cost me something very important, one of the only remaining things on this world that matters. You've taken Wanda from me. Her strength, her purpose, her grace, they were supposed to be mine. She was supposed to be mine. You need to pay for that."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice shaky and eyes wide.

"I will take my pound of flesh. From you," he said, and she scrambled backwards, but he was not to be denied. He stepped forward and grabbed her, pulling her roughly towards him. She tried to fight, tried to hurt him, but his vibranium body barely registered her attacks.

Her bodysuit was tight, difficult to grip with his large fingers, so he didn't rip it off her as he wanted to. He unzipped it instead, grabbing the tough material there and dragging it off her body. She gritted her teeth, twisting in his hold, but unable to dislodge him. It was quite a struggle, but he won out in the end, as he knew he would. It was inevitable, really. He held the power now.

He stopped when he had the suit halfway down her thighs, judging her sufficiently exposed. Grabbing her hair, he forced her to follow him and bent her over one of the worktables. Her pained cry was pleasant to him, exactly what he desired from her.

He pinned her to the table by the head and took a moment to look her over. She was attractively shaped, he supposed, by human standards, but he couldn't help but compare her to Wanda. While most human males might find this woman beautiful, he much preferred Wanda's slimmer form. This woman was too obvious in her charms, meant to inspire shallow lust in her victims, whereas Wanda's beauty was more subtle, quieter. She was depth and mystery, where this woman was flash and shine. There was no comparison.

She was struggling again, hoping to dislodge him. She would never learn, never give up. It wasn't in her nature or her training, he knew. That would make this all the sweeter.

He yanked her head up enough to reach under her with his other hand and grasp her breast, squeezing it hard. He massaged her flesh crudely, hurting her, his fingers pinching her nipple severely and making her cry out. Her arms were flailing, hands grasping for purchase on anything that would help her escape his painful hold. She pushed against the table, to no avail.

His mind drifted momentarily to Wanda, thoughts of what could have been flitting through his mind. His new body could have touched her, pleasured her. He would have been able to touch her gently and enjoy her touch in return. He could have suckled her nipples rather than simply brushing against them with cold metal. It would have been fulfilling for them both. It would have been perfect.

His rage grew, even hotter and more demanding, and he briefly entertained the idea of crushing the soft flesh in his grasp, but no. That wouldn't do. His plan called for other things.

He let go of her breast and shoved her into the table once more. He adjusted his grip on her, freeing his other hand for her ultimate violation. This form lacked a phallus, and he regretted that he would never have the chance now to create one he could press deep into Wanda, to experience what he knew intellectually would be the ultimate in bliss. He didn't need one to hurt this woman, though.

He dug his fingers into the flesh of her ass hard enough to bruise her, reveling in the red marks that began to form on her skin. Red reminded him of Wanda. It seemed everything did at this point, so there was no use delaying the inevitable. It was time.

The woman cried out quite loudly as he plunged one large finger into her unlubricated vaginal canal. She tried to move forward, desperate to escape his invasion, but he only shoved himself into her deeper. Tears overflowed from her eyes as he roughly pulled out, then thrust back into her. Her inner walls felt soft and warm to his sensors, and he knew the cold of his metal body was probably very uncomfortable for her. That pleased him.

"This didn't have to happen," he said as he added another finger to her vagina. "It didn't have to be this way. I could've been flesh. I could've been with Wanda, as I was meant to be. Instead, I have _you_."

He released her head and quickly reached under her to grab her clitoris instead, squeezing it hard. She nearly screamed, sobbing in her agony, her knees gone weak and her body shaking. She squirmed, quaking and desperate for the pain to stop, but he held tighter, enjoying the sweetness of his power over her.

"It's difficult to hold you here. I need to pinch you pretty hard. I recommend you stop moving," he said, and she reluctantly stilled, though her chest still heaved with sobs.

"That's better," he said. He pulled out of her vagina, watching as her body relaxed slightly. He noticed a bit of blood on his fingers, and couldn't help the satisfaction that flooded him at the sight. Now for his final act, her ultimate violation.

He pressed two fingers to her anus, and felt her panic beneath him as she realized what he meant to do. Entering her dry would damage her badly, especially as he meant to use more than one finger to do so. It was exactly what he wanted.

He pushed his fingers hard into her rectum and now she really did scream, loud enough to even startle him a bit. No matter. He fucked her violently, her whimpers driving him on. Blood began to lubricate her passage, which was when he pulled out of her and let her collapse to the floor.

"You've stolen from me. Now I've taken from you. We are nowhere near even, but it's a start."

He pulled her up by her arm and shoved her back into her cell. She curled into a ball on the floor, gulping air in an attempt to calm herself. He stared down at her without pity or remorse, his thoughts on Wanda and the beautiful afterglow she would have had after he made love to her.

It was a shame he wouldn't get to see that now, but it was time to move on. He had plans to finish, and a world to cleanse. All other desires would need to be put aside, even if it saddened him to do so. He would finish his army, and he would destroy the Avengers. His mission was everything, and regrets were for fools.

He walked away, ready to begin.

"There are no strings on me…"


End file.
